Mellody was grabbing a glass of water; she passed the window, and it was still light out, not long until dark. Carol, Sofia, and Maggie were making dinner; she walked down the hall and peered into the room Archie was staying in. He looked s unconscious, but he wasn't. Beth was sitting on the wood chair that Mellody was sitting on before, waiting. Archie was smiling and talking to her
"You're awake." Mellody spoke quietly as she stood in the doorway of Archie's room. Seeing that he had woken up, Beth turned to leave. "Sorry, I know you wanted to be here when he woke but I was getting him pillows," she explained. Archie's eyes landed on Mellody as soon as she spoke, and she stepped closer to his bed. A stain of blood was visible on the bed sheets, a reminder of how he received his injury.
"Cmere," Archie said
As Beth backed away, she gave Mellody the room, then left and closed the door behind her.
"Hey, Melly." Archie said, brushing some hair from her face.
"How are you feeling?" Mellody asked with concern.
"Never been better," Archie replied sarcastically, which made her giggle a little bit. She hopped up onto the bed, sitting closer to him.
"God, I'm tired." Archie said as he combed his curly, black hair out of his eyes.
Mellody giggled a bit, "You've been asleep this whole time," she said. Archie chuckled and replied, "If you call being unconscious sleeping, then I guess so."
Mellody was taken aback by his sudden change in behavior. She wasn't sure why he was being so nice, but she enjoyed it. He was being funny, and she was enjoying their conversation.
Archie sat up in bed, wiping the sleep from his eyes. Mellody was fast asleep at the other end of the bed. He swung his feet off the bed and grabbed his shoes, tying the laces. His gun and knife, which Merle had given him, was sitting on the nightstand. Archie got out of bed as quietly as possible, not wanting to wake the girl next to him. He turned the knob of the door and opened it slowly, making sure the hinges wouldn't make a sound.
As he walked through the hallway, he couldn't help but notice how silent the house was.
Archie walked towards the door, determined to leave. As he got outside, he spotted Rick sitting with Lori, Shane, and Dale.
"Hey!" he yelled out, catching them all by surprise.
Rick was the first to turn, looking surprised.
"What are you doing up?" he asked, concern dripping from his voice.
"Hershle said you should stay in bed and rest, let yourself heal," Rick continued, giving Archie a pointed look. It was the same look he gave Merle whenever he was doing something stupid.
Archie leaned sideways, eyeing Carl sitting on the bench, wearing his dad's hat. The mood felt awkward and tense, which made him feel uneasy.
"What's going on here?" he asked, searching for an answer.
Lori rolled her eyes as she replied, "Nothing. Is there something you need?"
Archie scowled at the dismissive attitude, then turned to Lori with another question. "Where's my uncle?" he asked. He hoped daryl hadn't left again on some crazy mission without him.
"He's in his tent," Dale replied. "He doesn't seem to be in a good mood," he added with a slight nod.
Archie ignored Daryl's words, instead approaching Carl. He tilted the hat down, looking down at the teenager and leaning in slightly. "Hey, little man, what did you do?" he questioned, his tone gentle and comforting.
"I took something," Carl admitted softly, his voice trembling slightly as he looked down at the ground in shame.
"Damn kid didn't think a cop's kid could be a thief," Archie mumbled to himself, his eyes darting over to Rick. Carl stayed silent, leaving Archie to wonder what the boy had taken.
"What did you take?" he repeated, not believing the answer he received. But when he heard his nephew had stolen a gun, he was shocked. "That can't be good," he said with some concern in his voice.
"A gun," Carl admitted, confirming the worst.
"Shit man could get arrested for that bullshit," Archie mumbled as he shook his head, pulling his gun out of his belt.
"What a shame, kid," Archie repeated, his voice full of disappointment.
Archie flicked Carl's hat, just enough for it to fall off, then walked over to Daryl's tent. He leaned over and unzipped the tent. There Daryl was inside, lying down in a sprawl.
"The hell?" Daryl growled as he opened his eyes, covering them with his fingers. Daryl was not amused when it turned out to be Archie that disturbed him.
"You sound glad I'm alive," Archie said half-jokingly, his tone light and humorous.
"You alright?" Daryl asked, brushing the comment off and looking at Archie. He seemed genuinely concerned about the younger man's condition.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Archie replied, even though he wasn't feeling 100%. He kept his voice strong and firm, trying to reassure Daryl that he was alright.
Daryl squinted at Archie's shoulder as he tilted his head up. "Let me see it."
Archie moved his shirt to the side, revealing the scar on his chest. It was a little around the shoulder to chest area.
"That's a story to tell," Daryl commented, glancing at the scar.
"Remember when I had to get stitches right here?" Daryl said, pointing a little over his eyebrow.
Archie nodded, as if the reminder brought back the memory vividly in his mind.
"Yeah, yeah, you told me it every Christmas and Halloween and Valentine's day," Archie replied sarcastically, rolling his eyes.
Archie stood in silence for a moment as he watched his uncle's expression shift.
"I'm glad your not dead, kid," Daryl said, finally admitting the sentiment quietly as he couldn't keep his emotions bottled up anymore.
Archie raised his eyebrows at the sudden comment, teasingly saying, "Wow, you really do care about me."
"Stop...get out," Daryl grunted, rolling over and pushing himself up against the back of the tent. Archie laughed and walked away, knowing the sentiment under Daryl's protests.
